MacKenzie Fire(99)

“The cowboy. We’ve heard all about you.” Sunil stands and offers a well-manicured hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“You can call me Ian if that’s all right with you,” he says, shaking Sunil’s hand.

“Of course, Ian. And you may call me Sunny if you like. All my friends do.”

Ian beams.

I’m sweating right along with Jorge. Two down, several to go, but if the appreciative gaze on Jorge’s face and the smile on Sunil’s is any indication, I’m nearly home free.

I walk into the main area of the salon, gesturing around the room. All the chairs are full, but everyone stops working to say hi or wave. I know they’ll all be accosting us later to get all the details from me. For now they have clients to tend to.

“These are the stations Jorge and I rent out to several colorists and stylists. The shampoo stations are over there. In the back we have massage and waxing rooms, manicures, and other spa treatments.”

“Wow, seems like you have it all here.” Ian nods as his gaze sweeps the room. He smiles and waves back at people greeting him.

“We try.” I’m proud and scared. I know we have a nice place, but how much can a cowboy who castrates bulls for a living appreciate a spa salon?

Jorge is standing on Ian’s other side. “Take your hat off for me, Ian, baby.”

Ian takes his hat off without question and stands there ready for inspection, as unfazed as I’ve ever seen him. It’s like he’s actually enjoying himself being the center of attention, the alien who’s landed on foreign ground.

Jorge runs his fingers through Ian’s hair. “Oh my goodness. So thick and healthy!”

“I’m cutting it later,” I say, winking at Ian.

“Lucky girl,” Jorge says, staring at some of Ian’s ends more closely. “Not a split end in sight. What kind of product do you use?”

“Shampoo. From the grocery store.”

Jorge looks at me behind Ian’s back, his eyebrows formed into the letter S across his forehead. “Is he pulling my leg?”

“Nope. He’s kind of a purist I guess you could say.”

Jorge has his finger on his lip and he’s shaking his head, back to inspecting Ian’s hair. “What I could do with a man like you. Mm. Mm. Mmmm.”

I laugh. “Is Mildred here?”

Jorge rolls his eyes and shakes his head, like a really unpleasant thought is inside it and he wants to get it out. “She’s in the back. Getting her talons done.”

I look up at Ian. “Are you ready?”

For the first time in the trip, Ian looks a little concerned.

“I don’t know. Am I?”

I take him by the arm and lead him towards the back. “This is the last person I want you to meet. She’s been coming in here every week, three times a week, since Jorge and I opened our doors. She’s our most regular regular.”

“Your most regular regular?”

“Yes. And she hates everyone.”

“Everyone? Even you?”

“Even me. Even Jorge. Even Sunny. She doesn’t have a nice bone in her body.”

“So what you’re saying is be prepared to be hated.”

“Essentially, yes.” I lower my voice and speak closer to his ear. “Don’t tell Jorge that I said this, but deep down inside her is a nice person fighting to get out. But she’s not shy about telling you exactly what she thinks, so I’m kind of curious what she’s going to say when she sees you.”

“Is she older?” he whispers

“Yes. In her eighties by now, although she won’t tell us the actual number.”

“I’m a little scared, I’ll be honest. Grandma Lettie whooped me with a broomstick once and I never forgot it.”

“I remember her from the wedding last year. Trust me … she’s an angel compared to Mildred.”

We stop just outside the entrance to the manicure area. “You ready?” I ask, nervous. I’ve never told anyone this, not even Jorge, but I kind of view Mildred as the grandmother I never had. She’s got a sharp tongue and zero grace when it comes to interacting with people, but she’s told me some things over the years that have really helped me, the first thing being that I should take Jorge on as a partner. She recognized early on that he had the energy level and the know-how to make things happen for us. She saw a compatibility between Jorge and me that most people would have missed. She pretends to hate him but I know otherwise. I let Jorge get his panties in a twist over her because it makes everyone happy. Jorge loves nothing more than drama.

“I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Ian says, wiggling his hat on his head a little, effectively drawing it down closer to his eyes. It makes him look sexier and I decide right then and there that if Mildred can hate this guy, she has no soul. That’s all there is to it.

“Follow me,” I say, walking into the back room.

Mildred isn’t alone. Our manicurist is there and another client is waiting for her polish to dry, reading a magazine as she passes the time, her eyelids threatening to fall closed. I have on more than one occasion left people to nap when I knew they didn’t have pressing appointments after their session with us. It always seemed silly to me to create a relaxing environment and then hurry people out of it.